


Eclipse

by PineTrain



Category: Gravity Falls
Genre: F/M, Fluff, Lunar Eclipse, pinecest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-29
Updated: 2017-08-29
Packaged: 2018-12-21 05:39:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,891
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11937468
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PineTrain/pseuds/PineTrain





	Eclipse

“What time will it be happening again?” Mabel asked for the umpteenth time that day.

“In the morning,” Dipper answered. “I forget the exact time, but it’ll definitely be in the morning.

They were walking back to the Shack, though a more accurate description for Mabel would be “flailing”. Having successfully purchased a set of eclipse glasses from the library, she was now testing them out as they returned. His sister could be a bit clumsy at times, but she’d tripped over random sticks and stones 11 times now. Dipper was starting to get concerned about the fragile cardboard device being damaged during such a fall.

“Waaaaah!” she cried out as the count became an even dozen.

Dipper halted and looked down at her in the dirt. She was flat on her face with her arms dramatically splayed out like she was some kind of cartoon character. In other words, 

a typical Mabel pratfall. Her legs were flung wide, too, and he cocked an eyebrow at the notion that he could've seen up her skirt if he was at a different angle. He cleared his throat, pushing the thought away, and crouched next to her.

Mabel lifted her head, a curtain of hair veiling her face. “Pthbbbbttt,” she rasberried, tossing a tiny portion of hair out of the way. 

“Does that mean you're all right?” Dipper asked, poking a finger to the center of her forehead and nudging more hair aside.

“Yeah, yeah,” she said nonchalantly. “You just can't see anything out of these things! I thought they'd just be, like, super sunglasses or something!”

“Well, they are. They just have to be even more super because you're looking directly at the Sun instead of seeing light bounce off stuff. The rays will go straight from it and in your eyeballs.”

“And sssssssss,” Mabel imitated a frying pan.

“Yup. Anyways, you can see out the bottom and sides of the glasses. It's not like they're eclipse goggles.”

“Oh Dipper,” Mabel said condescendingly as she brought a hand up to support her chin. “How long have we known each other? 3, 4 years?”

“18 in a week and a half,” he said, rolling his eyes at her toothy grin.

“And you STILL don't know I only ever look forward?”

He flicked her nose, causing the glasses to bop up. They landed a little further down her nose than they started. Mabel tilted her head so her eyes showed above the glasses and waggled her eyebrows a few times. Dipper frowned and pinched her nose closed. She responded by trying to blow her nostrils open by force, simultaneously puffing her cheeks out and crossing her eyes as if either action helped.

“You're ridiculous,” Dipper said with a smile. He released her nose to a whoosh of air escaping.

“But that's what you like about me,” Mabel said, readjusting the glasses.

“Among other things.”

“Like what?”

Dipper remembered not being able to look up her skirt. He chastised himself for immediately being a pervert. “It'd take forever to list. I don't think a dirt road is the best place to talk about it.”

“D’aw, you're so sweet,” she teased. “You've got a huge, long list of things you love about me.”

“Oh, shut up. I'll hold your nose again.”

Mabel laughed, “Okay, okay. Help me up?” She thrust her arms and legs out, balancing her weight on her stomach.

Dipper shuffled back a bit since her arms were currently hovering past him. He glanced at her hands, then at her feet, which also hovered above the ground. He could tell Mabel was going to be completely dead weight when he helped her. He didn't feel like lifting her by her hands, so he moved closer and grasped under her armpits, lifting her with him as he stood.

“Thanks!” she said as he set her on her feet. 

Her face then contorted into a grimace and she looked down. Dipper looked with her and saw a dirty patch of blood on her right knee. A small droplet trickled a few millimeters down from it.

“I thought you said you were alright,” he said, slightly annoyed.

“I thought I was. Is it bad?”

“You’d know if you stopped trying to look through those glasses.”

“It doesn't really hurt,” Mabel shrugged. “It’s probably just a scrape.”

“Probably. But it’s got a bunch of dirt on it. We’ll need to clean it when we get back. For now, though,” Dipper rummaged in his vest’s pockets, finding and pulling out a crumpled, but unused, band-aid, “lemme put this on. For the blood.” 

Brushing away some of the dirt, he stuck the band-aid on. A red-brown dot rapidly appeared on its back as it soaked in the small amount of blood. He smeared off what blood wasn't covered by the band-aid with his thumb and stood back up.

“You okay to walk home?”

Mabel’s eyebrows creased in and her mouth opened in a toothy, wordless d’aw. Dipper blushed brightly at the stupidity of the question as he realized she thought it was adorable. She already said it didn't really hurt so why was he asking that? 

Even though she couldn't see him with the glasses on, the way Mabel patted his shoulder made it obvious she knew how he’d reacted. “Can I get a piggyback?” she asked.

Well, he’d already indirectly offered, and Mabel didn't sound like she was making fun of him. He might as well. Turning away from her, he reached back to find her hands. He knew she was going to be adamant about keeping the glasses on after the earlier discussion, so he helped her find him tactily. He knelt again and waited for her to get in position. Grabbing under her legs he lifted her while he stood.

Mabel hugged close to him as he started walking and he focused on the trees ahead to ignore the press of her breasts. The deep green of the conifers grew darker when a cloud’s shadow passed over them. It was like nature’s version of a trailer for the coming eclipse.

A total solar eclipse. So rare he might never have a chance to see one again. There would be more over the course of his life, obviously, but it was impossible to know if he could ever be in the right place to witness any of those other ones properly. Astronomers knew when and where those other eclipses would be visible, but it was astrologers who knew when and where HE’D be. Considering his great-grandmother's profession, he knew better than to trust the latter.

He was lucky with this eclipse. No need to travel besides the already annual trip to Gravity Falls. No need to worry about hotels or food. Not even a need to worry about taking off work since he was still in high school. All he had to do was sit back, relax and watch.

With Mabel. The other lucky factor of the eclipse. The luckier one, if you asked him. 

It was probably the fact that they were going to be seniors this year that made it feel so fortunate. The looming shadow of college felt almost omnipresent and carried with it both excitement and worry. While much of the excitement drowned out most of the worries, the impending separation of the twins wasn't one of them.

He paused and gave a quick pop to adjust Mabel on his back. It was partially because she’d been slipping a little, but mostly he just felt a strange need to make sure she was still there. Make sure he wasn't imagining the physical connection they had right now. It was dumb, he knew that, but when he thought about how things would be in little over a year he couldn't help himself.

The thought felt so odd, so alien. Just wrong in so many ways. The Pines twins. Separated. Not for a few hours, a few days, or a few weeks. Months. And only a few days here and there where they'd be together. Where he could touch her, hold her, give her something silly and fun like a piggyback ride.

He could watch this eclipse with her. Would he have been able to have this once in a lifetime moment if they'd been born a few years earlier? Maybe, maybe not. He was lucky.

“Awwww!” Mabel exclaimed, pulling him from his thoughts. “It's so cute! Or, uh, hey, Dip?”

“Yeah?” He glanced back and saw in the corner of his eye that she was staring at the sky.

“Is the Sun a boy or a girl?”

“It's a giant ball of gas. Those don't really have genders.”

Mabel bapped his head lightly. “I mean, like, mythologicalmally.”

“Um, well,” Dipper huffed, thinking back to books he'd read as he kept his breath steady despite the exertion of carrying her, “It's a guy to the Romans. They called him Sol, I think. Y’know, SOLar and all that. But I'm pretty sure the Japanese saw it as a woman. Amattatasu or something. Remember that old game with the dog and paint?”

“Yeah, I liked that one a lot!”

“Yeah. I, well, I'm not sure about other cultures, but I think the Sun’s usually a guy. Because, y’know, the moon is the other big thing in the sky and that's usually a girl. Since, like, it has a monthly cycle and, eh…”

“Periods.”

“Mhm. So you have two big objects in the sky and one's a girl, then the others probably a boy. I think that's how it went anyways. It's been awhile since I read about myths.”

“Why? Couldn't it be two girls? Or two guys?”

“I mean, I guess? I dunno what they were thinking back then. Like I said, it's been awhile. Maybe it was kind of a romance thing? Guy, girl, both giant round things in the sky above mere mortals, why not get together? Have some babies who can be gods of lightning or volcanoes or whatever.”

“But weren't they usually siblings?”

Dipper’s foot hesitated for a fraction of a second before he lifted it to take another step, “I, uh, yeah, I think so? There was a lot of god, er, incest in myths. It makes sense if you think about it. You're the only ones around because you haven't made humans yet, so who else will you get with?”

Dipper instantly regretted his response. It seemed like a logical conclusion, but he didn't have to just come out and say that to Mabel. It was just weird discussing the idea of incest as if that was some sort of rational thing. Mabel didn't respond to his comment so he was left to stew in his worry over what she thought of it.

They reached the Shack in silence. Dipper knelt so Mabel could dismount him. Standing back up, he turned to find her still looking at the sun. She seemed lost in thought as she stared. Considering the sun was the only thing she could actually see with the glasses on, it wasn't too surprising she would blankly stare at it while the gears of her mind whirled, but that didn't help him know what she was thinking.

She finally broke her gaze and dropped her head. Pulling the glasses off she looked at him and smiled. “I just had an idea,” she said. “How we can both watch the eclipse at the same time!”

The library had only had the one set left when they finally got around to purchasing it today. Dipper had known better than to wait until the last minute, but things just seemed to keep coming up and he just hadn't been able to find the time to go. So now they had one and the current plan was to switch off. Disappointing, but workable, and certainly better than fried eyes. Still, it'd be nice to watch the whole transit.

“Yeah? What is it?”

“It’s pretty easy. Obvious, really, once I thought about it.” She stepped towards him and stood by his side, wrapping one arm behind his neck. “We just smoosh our cheeks together and hold the glasses in front of our faces so we can each look through one lens! And keep our other eye closed, cuz ssssssss!”

She demonstrated as she spoke, and Dipper found his vision partially blocked by the black rectangle of the lens. He focused on working out the best way to handle his side of the glasses after taking hold from Mabel. It helped him ignore her immediate proximity. It worked for the moment, but Dipper recognized the impending problem with this plan. 

“Won't it be kinda hard? The eclipse is longer than a few seconds. We’ll have to be like this for a while.”

“So? What's wrong with that?”

Dipper felt a droplet of nervous sweat on his temple. “Nothing!” he said quickly. Too quickly.

Mabel pulled away, letting go of the glasses. Dipper’s heart dropped as she faced him. She looked hurt.

“Dip?”

The pain in her voice was searing. She knew he was uncomfortable with her presence. He didn't want her to think it was her fault, but he didn't know how to explain things without giving it all away. She was searching his face and it only added his difficulty.

“Dipper… what's wrong?”

“It's nothing. Nothing’s wrong,” he muttered, glancing aside.

A quiet fell over them, an inevitable byproduct of his lie. Mabel could clearly tell he wasn't going to answer honestly if she pushed further  and he wasn't sure how to change topics without it being even more awkward. He was still searching for something to say when she broke the silence with something unexpected.

“I'm glad I get to see this with you, brobro.”

He looked back at her. She cocked her head, a small, sad smile forming on her lips.

“You've been thinking about that, haven't you? That we’re lucky we can see the eclipse together.”

“Maybe “ he said with a half smile of his own.

“Pthbb,” she gave a short raspberry, “You totally were. You nerd.” 

Mabel looked at the sky and Dipper followed her gaze upwards. A cloud was passing over the sun, throwing a shadow over them. The celestial body was still somewhat visible, if a bit amorphous as it glowed through the impediment. Hopefully there wouldn't be such a cloud during the eclipse.

He felt Mabel move back alongside him. A distant instinct told him to flinch away, but he ignored it. He didn't know what it was, but something about the way she pushed her cheek against his again felt different, more earnest, more meaningful. He raised the glasses back into place as Mabel had described and through the dark lens he watched the Sun come back into view as the cloud passed.

“He is cute,” Dipper said, smiling at the small orange circle. The idea that something a hundred billion times his own size could look so tiny and quaint was frankly adorable.

“I told you,” Mabel said. “So that means the Sun’s a boy?”

“Huh?”

“You said ‘he’, so the Sun’s a boy.”

“Oh, yeah, I guess he is,” Dipper chuckled. “But only according to us.”

Mabel was quiet for a moment before speaking, “Hey Dip… do you think that if you were the Sun and I was the Moon… that we’d get together?”

Dipper thought about it. He thought about their conversation. He thought about his own feelings. He thought about her cheek pressed to his while they watched a god be reduced to a cute orange dot.

“Yes,” he answered, “but I’d hate it.”

“Why?” Mabel asked, pulling away and looking at him.

He met her eyes, “Because I could only ever be with you during an eclipse. And that's not enough.”

Mabel smiled and gently shoved her hand in his face. “You dork. Don't say things that way. I was scared for a second.”

“Scared?” Dipper asked. He moved her hand away with his own, then cupped her cheek. He started leaning in towards her.

Mabel blushed and pushed his chest back a bit. “Scared I was wrong, but I can tell for sure I wasn't NOW. You doofus, we’re still outside,” she said, giggling.

Dipper’s eyes widened as he realized he almost kissed her right in  the open. Wasn't he supposed to be the careful twin? He couldn't really fault himself too much though; it was just a natural reaction to finally understanding your strange desires were miraculously reciprocated.

“You're right. Let's get inside.”

His hand fell from her cheek to grab hers. His heart skipped as their fingers intertwined while they swiftly walked to somewhere more private.

He'd been thinking so much about how the eclipse was a fortunate thing since it occurred right before he and Mabel would begin drifting apart. He wouldn't have ever even hoped that it might perhaps signal a different sort of beginning. A beginning that spoke of a closeness he only dared to dream of.

Mabel squeezed his hand when he opened the door to the Shack. He turned and saw the warmest, happiest smile he'd ever seen on her. He knew there were a million questions they'd need to answer just from his earlier worries alone. But for now, he saw only that smile on the beautiful girl the eclipse had given him.


End file.
